My name is Chang Le. I transmigrated into a comprehensive martial arts world and got bound to a System with an even nastier mouth than mine.
Other people’s Systems give them divine arts and weapons. Mine gives me a box of clown jack-in-the-boxes from the start, along with an announcement: “We wish you a pleasant death.”
To make things worse, I was born with a leaky bucket of a body. No matter how much internal energy goes in, it all leaks right back out. Learn martial arts? Not a chance in this lifetime.
But that’s fine.
I can learn the Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms after watching them three times, even if each strike only knocks off three leaves.
Other people use Phantom Step to flee for their lives. I use it to walk through walls and steal chicken legs.
I can’t bear to eat divine-grade pastries, so I use them as bait and end up luring in Hong Qigong, the Northern Beggar, along with a whole crowd of wild beasts gathered to watch from ten li away.
Huang Rong says I’m a fraud. I come clean: “I only ever tell the truth when I tell fortunes. That’s why no one believes me.”
The Ginseng Immortal Old Monster comes looking for revenge? I put on a ghost mask and scare him off on the spot.
A flower thief sneaks into the embroidery tower at night? Come on in. Step on this box first.
This world is full of experts, and the Five Greats vie for supremacy.
As for me, Chang Le, I’m determined to become the martial world’s number-one entertainer.
